"You had better retire, my lord duke, or else put on a mask," whispered
Malartic to the young nobleman, "so that you may not be seen and
recognised in this affair."
"What do I care?" cried Vallombreuse, flourishing his sword. "I am not
afraid of anybody in the world--and besides, those who see me will never
go away from this to tell of it."
"But at least your lordship will place this second Helen in some safe
retreat. A stray bullet might so easily deprive your highness of the
prize that cost so dear--and it would be such a pity."
The duke, finding this advice judicious, went at once over to where
Isabelle was standing beside Chiquita, and throwing his arms round
her attempted to carry her into the next room. The poor girl made a
desperate resistance, and slipping from the duke's grasp rushed to the
window, regardless of danger, crying, "Save me, de Sigognac! save me!"
A voice from without answered, "I am coming," but, before he could reach
the window, Vallombreuse had again seized his prey, and succeeded in
carrying her into the adjoining room, closing and bolting the stout
oaken door behind him just as de Sigognac bounded into the chamber he
had quitted. His entrance was so sudden, and so swiftly and boldly made,
that he entirely escaped the pistol shots aimed at him, and the four
bullets all fell harmless.
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